The Picture Is TAKEN.

KidThree went with me to the newspaper office, where I told the cute young photographer that I wanted her to be in the picture with me because my guest column was about her. The cute young photographer was very obliging, taking several shots of the two of us until there was one with no funny shadows, but then he took one of just me "in case 'they' really insisted." What do you want to bet that is the one that is used? I didn't like the picture and wanted to redo it, but KidThree liked it, so what the heck.

The movie yesterday was wonderful. FriendL and I went to see "Tell No One," as the movie reviewer for our local paper raved about it, and it was that good. Oh my. Complex, surprising, beautifully acted--all things we like to see in movies. It'll go on our Blockbuster list so KidOne and KidThree can watch it. KidThree will need a couple of viewings to get the story straight, as it is in French with subtitles, but she'll love it.

Tomorrow I'll be watching LadyP from 11:30 until 5. LadyP's daughter and husband will be going to look at two residential facilities for her. This is such a hard devolution to watch; LadyP is such a wonderful person and her family loves her so much. Her husband is devastated at the thought of putting her in a facility, as he can't bear the thought of her being frightened and alone, but at the same time he knows her condition is such that he is not physically able to properly care for her on his own. I can see LadyP's deterioration just in our twice-weekly visits--she is growing physically weaker and less able to remember things almost by the day. When I'm with her, I interact with her on two levels: Level one is that of two women sharing some time. I keep up a running conversation of what is going on in my life (kids, their school, the newspaper columnist), speaking slower than normal and occasionally asking a simple question that I know she'll be able to answer so she can feel like she is appropriately involved in the conversation. Level two is that of a child, about age four. I hold her hand and arm tightly when we're walking, comment on the color of the bicycles we see flash past, point out interesting cars and dogs and people. LadyP responds to all that, too; the level is just right for her. She can understand that a particular bicycle is an amazing pink, or that a certain dog is the hairiest we've seen in weeks. I am so very grateful that neither of my parents has that horrible, ghastly disease. Dad is forgetful, but short-term only and in large part because of meds--his essential self is mostly untouched. More than losing any or all of the functions of my body, losing control of my mind is what I fear the most.

Here at home, summer is mostly ended and the college kids are returning. Our building of eight apartments here is filling up with some new tenants and a few returning ones. One of the two young men who live directly above us is so friendly and polite to me when he sees me, it cracks me up. I don't feel old inside, but obviously to him I am a woman the age of his parents to whom he must be respectful and around whom he must mind his manners. Living around all these kids is a little like being a cub scout den mother. When I'm in the laundry room and pulling their laundry out of the washers or dryers or adding money to their dryers so their clothes can get thoroughly dry or folding their dry clothes, I feel like their nanny--all I want to do is take all of them aside and give them laundry lessons. "Kids, this is How we sort the laundry, this is Why we sort the laundry, this is Why my whites are white and yours are dingy gray, and this is What Happens if you try to cram too many items in the machines."

Time to go take care of KidThree. We have group this afternoon; this will be a session without me, since I attended the last one to explain about the special gym.

A

Picture Day.

This morning I'm going to go to the local newspaper office to get my picture taken for my guest column. Yesterday I was grousing about having to do that, so KidThree offered to go with me and be in the picture. That seemed like a great idea--the column is about here, after all--so I'm taking her with me. She'll wear her new outfit: blouse and shoes from Sunday's shopping trip and pants from my Wal*Mart trip Saturday.

Yesterday I had a good yak with Mom; she is back online. Good. It is peculiar to have Mom disconnected from us all--disorienting, almost. Life is better with contact.

The wind yesterday morning made me dizzy, so I ended up spending most of the day horizontal, and a lot of that time napping. A good way to spend the day, only I wish it wasn't vertigo that triggered it. Mother's Day or my birthday or Christmas would have come with presents and catering. I'm still feeling a bit fuzzy and so will end this here.

A

Labor Day.

The wind came up last night and now it is blowing like crazy outside. I have all the windows open and am enjoying it immensely, the sound and the feel of it. According to the news, it is supposed to start heating up again today; at least we had a relatively cool weekend (not out of the eighties). Man oh man am I looking forward to the fall.

eHarmony is having a Labor Day weekend special--free participation through today. I went ahead and signed up but don't expect to be able to continue, as eHarmony wants a credit card. Match.com allowed me to pay from my bank account. I went ahead and emailed back a man who contacted me, and then sent messages to two others. It is a real drawback that I don't know how to upload photos, as people like to see faces.

I missed my crossword puzzle all day yesterday. Today there is no paper because of the holiday, so I can't check to see what puzzle appears. Tomorrow I'll do that--see if the puzzle that shows up is the New York Times one or another of these three-letter word puzzles that are a waste of ink. Blast. I want to know NOW.

Yesterday KidThree and I went to PastorJ's church. They had services outdoors in the park next to the facility where they usually met, and had a barbecue afterwards. It was lovely. This group of people is so very friendly. Most wear nametags, and many of them came up to introduce themselves to us and chat for a bit. KidThree appeared to enjoy it; I'll take her back happily. Especially when they offer up tri-tip.

We also went to do a little clothes shopping. Very little, as I couldn't swing much, but at least we got out. A Mervyn's near us is closing because of the chain's bankruptcy, so we went there first. We had a good time choosing tops for her to try on and found one that is cute and fit well. Then we went shoe-shopping; she found a pair of plain black sneakers. Our routine when shoe-shopping is for me to try on the shoes first, as I know just how her shoes should fit me in order to fit her (my feet are that tiny bit wider). If a shoe feels to me as though it would work on her feet, then we go to the trouble of trying it on her. That saves time. Sometimes I've gone out to get KidThree shoes without her, which gets some funny reactions from the store personnel as I am so obviously out of place buying stylish-teenager shoes. One young man once even hesitantly suggested to me that I might be in the wrong store and was so confused when I told him what shoes I was there to try on. When I explain that I'm there to get shoes for my daughter, they are relieved--all is right with their world again and they help me happily.

Today I'll take the rejected pants back to Wal*Mart for my refund. That money goes into checking to help pay the rent. I am so looking forward to October, when I start earning enough money to pay the bills regularly and on time, and will still have enough to buy KidThree more than one top per shopping trip.

I sent Mom, SisterC, KidOne and KidTwo my winning column through email and got a funny response from SisterC. She wrote, "you are such of a good writer, and I haven't even read your entry yet!" Happiness is a sister who is believes of course you should win, even when she hasn't read the winning entry. Mom's computer is not working these days, so she may not be able to get to her email. She doesn't like to use Dad's computer.

KidTwo is heading to her daddy's home country tomorrow for a month with the relatives. She is looking forward to seeing her grandparents, especially as her grandfather had a health crisis recently. A friend of hers from here in town is meeting her there for ten days of her trip; they plan to go sightseeing together. After the month down South, KidTwo will move to the country next door, where her daddy has been transferred and where she will work and go to school. If I ever win the lotto, I'll go visit KidTwo down South and have her show me all around. After I'm done kissing and hugging her. The kids have promised many, many online photos so I can see where they go and who they visit. Several of the relatives I know from visits up here and others I know long-distance through KidTwo and KidOne's visits; I look forward to seeing pictures of them and have sent greetings all around. (Yes, I know they are my ex's family, but when I divorced him, I kept his relatives.)

This morning the laundry awaits. Water is boiling for my second cup of coffee, then I'll sort loads and get things going. Before the sun comes up and the heat starts up and I want to crawl back into my cave. FriendL and I are going to go to a movie later, "Tell No One." KidThree fussed theatrically a little until I said it was subtitled, then she was fine with being deserted. She and I will go see "The Dark Knight" tomorrow. Also this morning I am staying with LadyP for a little while; her husband still needs the break, Labor Day or no.

Sunday Morning Just Crashed Down.

I couldn't pay the subscription fee for our big regional paper, so that delivery was stopped some months ago; with it went my Sunday New York Times crossword puzzle. Our local paper (which I just managed to pay for) is an afternoon one five days a week, and then one issue Sunday morning. Six papers a week. It contained the non-Sunday New York Times crossword puzzles, Monday's through Saturday's, with the Saturday puzzle being printed in the Sunday morning edition.

*For non-crossword fans, the Sunday New York Times is an extra-big puzzle, usually with some trick or pun to it. It is almost always a challenge, at least for me. The weekly puzzles start out easy on Monday and get incrementally more difficult throughout the week, with the Saturday puzzle frequently being more difficult than even the big one on Sunday.

The Sunday New York Times crossword was always a lot of fun, but I haven't missed it TOO terribly much because I still had a puzzle to do on Sunday morning, a puzzle that frequently took me all day to get solved.

To stretch out the fun, I save the puzzle for last. I read the paper, including the inserts, check the sale ads, chuckle at the funnies, and then, then I turn to the classified section to open it to my crossword. This morning, there was something wrong with the crossword. I thought it was a misprint. It was so small, it didn't take up the space cleared for it, and the answers all looked to be short little words. It had to be a misprint. Then I looked closer. It is a crossword. A baby crossword. A crossword embryo, born prematurely before it developed to the stage of having polysyllabic words. A crossword that couldn't cross a cul-de-sac by itself, let alone go down to the local newspaper.

There was no explanation. How could someone shatter my Sunday mornings with no explanation? What did I do? Did I anger the newspaper gods by my inability to pay the subscription bill to the big paper? Did I enjoy too much the negative view of a modern newspaper depicted in the wonderful, complex offering that was Season Five of "The Wire?" What happened? Where is my crossword? How can I enjoy my Sunday properly without facing a puzzle that at first glance appears insolvable, but that then gradually over the day opens itself to my understanding? And how can I face the week without looking forward to the crossword puzzles from Thursdays on? The anticipation of the more difficult puzzles helps me to face the assault on my resources that is the beginning of each week. Monday's puzzles I scorn. Tuesday's puzzles I scoff at. Wednesday's puzzles I deign to skim over, as once in a while one looks like it might make me think for a moment or two. And then there is Thursday, with a puzzle that I can be sure is going to take me a little while, that will make me think on at least some of the clues, that can fool me and puzzle me and confound me, at least a little bit. Friday's puzzles are even better, then I get the fun of delayed gratification in waiting an extra day for the puzzle prize that is the Saturday New York Times crossword.

Then this. I don't know how I'll face the day. How can I fill my time? What will I do? I am bereft. Will Shortz, is this your fault? Tell me, what did I do? WAS IT SOMETHING I SAID??

The newspaper lies scattered around my chair, mute.

A

Another Saturday, Another Funeral.

This morning's funeral was for a teen who was successfully disassociating himself from his gang. He had made the choice to leave that life behind him, turned his focus to school, worked hard with his school's football team, and died anyway, shot in the back of the head by some gangbangers who crashed a party he was attending. What a tragedy. This boy had done what KidThree did--he made the choice to leave that life, he made better decisions, he started to work his way out, and still he got popped. What an f'ing tragedy. What a mess. That poor boy. His poor family. Our poor society.

Of course KidThree knew him. Friends and acquaintances of hers die at the rate of almost one a week, murdered, mostly. When I was a girl, I went to my grandfather's funeral and the funeral of a classmate who walked behind home plate when a batter hit the ball and then threw aside his bat, where it struck my classmate in the head. That was it. For KidThree, this was the fourth funeral this summer. One natural, albeit tragic, death and three murders. And those were only the deaths where she attended the funerals.

It was an interesting morning. This family didn't know me, so KidThree very hesitantly hinted that I might not want to attend, as my presence might be somewhat inhibiting to the other attendees. Poor KidThree. She was so careful to assure me that she wasn't ashamed of me, that she was proud to have me as her mom, she just thought the family might not be entirely comfortable with me. I reassured her that I understood, not to blow smoke, but because I really did understand her dilemma.

We went across town to pick up another girl, then headed out to the funeral. When we got there, I was tickled to see that it was at a Catholic cathedral. Ha Ha Ha! I knew it would be as unfamiliar to her as her Baptist services have been for me, and that is what happened. She and her friend didn't understand most of what was going on. Afterwards I was able to explain to them some of the differences they had noticed. I think I may take KidThree to a few Catholic services just to explain to her some basic religious history.

While the girls were at the funeral, I went to Wal*Mart and did some shopping. That was fun. We have trouble shopping for pants for KidThree, as we need a dressing room with a good-sized bench in it in order for her to be able to try on the clothing. It works better to buy things, bring them home to try, then return the rejects. Today I had just cashed her SSI check and so had plenty of cash (NOT my usual situation), so I chose a dozen pairs of jeans and shorts to try. She chose two pairs of the shorts and three of the pants fit me (we wear sort of the same size--just very different styles as we are different shapes). The rest will go back tomorrow.

We have just finished watching the last episode of "The Wire." The very last one. Not the penultimate, the actual ultimate. Drat, Blast, and Darn It All. The last episode of "The Wire." I thought "The Sopranos" was good, but "The Wire" blew that out of the water. Oh my. No more "The Wire." It has so ruined television for me. No more cop shows except things like "The First 48," which KidThree likes to watch. Drat, Blast, and Darn It All AGAIN.

News from the 'hood: KidThree's bio-mother got locked up yesterday afternoon; bio-mother's wife and KidThree's younger brother are still on the run; and KidThree's sister is still in hiding with her babydaddy and their baby. It will take a while for that to resolve. What a mess this world of ours is.

On the plus side, I won one of the spots in the contest "To Replace the Above-Named Columnist" in our local paper. There were ten spots, so it isn't that big a win, but what the heck, I'll take what I can get. I got the chance to get my "Don't Block the Walk" campaign out in front of the public. Ideas keep running through my head for funny signs and flyers, complete with photos illustrating the idiocy of some of the problems we run into out in the Big Bad Inaccessible World. Maybe that will be how I leave my mark on the world--"Don't Block the Walk" can be right up there with "Don't Drink and Drive." That and my lovely trio, Kids One, Two, and Three.

A

Yesterday's News.

Yesterday it was well over a hundred degrees here and last night it barely cooled off. Windows open all night, but the apartment is still hot. Miserably hot. Swelteringly hot. Utterly, terribly, roastingly hot. Yuck. The fall can't come quickly enough for this heat-hating blogger.

Yesterday I got in touch with the company through which KidThree originally got her wheelchair to see if they would still take care of the chair even with our insurance change. They will. Thank goodness. Today I have to arrange to get them a prescription, then they will set in motion the procedure to get the repairs authorized. KidThree needs her own chair back. The borrowed one she's in is so rickety, we expect parts to start falling off at any moment.

Our ADA called yesterday to update me on the trial's newest presumed start date. It will start sometime between 09/04 and09/08, with KidThree being the first to testify after opening arguments. I'll be able to listen to opening arguments but KidThree can't because she is a witness. She'll have to stay out in the hall or across the street in the DA's office with our support group. I so want this to be over with. It has been hanging over KidThree's head for so long now, raising her anxiety levels every time it gets continued and rescheduled. She needs to get this over with.

The messy thing about this trial is that not everyone who should be charged was charged. The shooting was between two groups who had been arguing: I'll call them GroupA and GroupB. The argument was on GroupA's territory. Apparently GroupB arrived on the scene to back up one of their members who was being verbally harassed by GroupA. One or two members of GroupB pulled out weapons and started firing on GroupA, who responded by getting a weapon and firing in return. Somehow, those who explained to the police later about the event covered up the fact that GroupB had been firing, had initiated the shooting. No One from GroupB got charged. Two young men from GroupA were the only ones charged, when it is entirely possible their actions counted as self-defense. It is also very likely that a shooter from GroupB was the one who fired the shot that hit KidThree, who was across the street and down a bit. It just feels WRONG to us. Wrong that the members in GroupB didn't get charged. Wrong that the two in GroupA got charged when they were responding to incoming fire. Wrong that the member of GroupB who has bragged about shooting KidThree didn't get charged. Wrong, wrong, wrong.

Our ADA told us that he disagreed with the decision to not charge the members of GroupB, but that the decision was made above his head and he couldn't change it. (He was not our original ADA, but we like him much better than the first one.) This whole mess, with the arbitrary nature of who got charged and the continuance after continuance after continuance, has seriously damaged my faith in the justice system. It will be very interesting (and probably more disillusioning) to see how the actual trial goes.

Yesterday I got started moving furniture around in KidThree's room but wasn't able to get much done. 105 degrees outside and no a/c in that room made for a short working session. Maybe by the weekend it will cool off enough for me to do some more work in there. KidOne has two bureaus in there which will be gone in the next week or two, giving KidThree access to all of her room again. We have to set up an exercise spot in there so she can do the routines she learned down at the gym, but we can't do that until the room is cleared of KidOne's extraneous furniture.

And of course yesterday we watched Obama's acceptance speech. I missed Bill Richardson's speech, which I was very sorry about, but at least I got to hear Obama. I thought he was marvelous. Absolutely marvelous. He said all the things I wanted to hear and then some, and what a delivery. It will be quite a letdown next week to hear John McCain give his speech next week, with his anemic "my friends" over and over and over again. He just can't compare when it comes to speaking. But we will be watching, and listening, carefully.

So far school is going well for KidThree. I hope her current level of motivation continues. KidOne started her college semester last week and is adjusting to balancing work and study again; her several weeks of 'vacation' between the summer and fall sessions got her out of practice. KidTwo is out of contact for a bit as her father left the country there and took his laptop with him. I HATE it when she is out of contact. I don't mind a bit when she is out of the country--I miss her like crazy, but I don't mind, because I know I can look at her online journal and hear her voice, and she sends me emails where I can hear her voice, but when she can't access the internet, I don't have that contact. Drat drat drat. She goes to South American next week and will be staying a month. I hope she has access to a computer down there. I miss my KidTwo and want to hear her lovely, funny, idiosyncratic voice. Over the phone or through the computer, I do so love to hear my girl.

My mother is offline too. Her computer is down. Blast! I'll give her a call tomorrow so we can have a good long gab and catch up on all the news.

I finished the biography of Charles Schulz and continued throughout to be enchanted and impressed with the thoroughness of David Michaelis's work. He did such a marvelous job of intertwining 'Peanuts' with the events in Schulz's life and giving us such a clear picture of that complicated man. Like the rest of my generation, I grew up reading 'Peanuts' daily and knew all the characters as well as I knew the members of my own family. That was the only place where I found characters who had the same doubts and despairs that I did, but kept on going nonetheless. I did, and do, love 'Peanuts.' I collect PVC Snoopys, key rings and Christmas ornaments, and have so many my entire Christmas trees are decorated entirely in them.

I then read about half of the biography of Charles Fort but got so annoyed with his stupidity and Theodore Dreiser's gullibility that I quit reading it. The older I've gotten, the less likely I am to finish a book that doesn't keep me interested on at least a couple of levels. So, now I'm reading "The Slaves' War: The Civil War in the Words of Former Slaves," by Andrew Ward. He has done the same sort of amazingly in-depth job as Michaelis, going through what must have been reams and reams of papers to tease out the vignettes he uses in the book. I am enjoying the book and will read bits of it to KidThree after I've finished it; she gets school credit for things like that if she writes short essays on what she has learned.

Now I will finish my coffee and try harder to kill the mosquito that is trying to breakfast on my delectable self. With the computer on my lap, my murderous attempts have thus far been futile.

A

Thursday, Thursday.

Thursday is my favorite day of the week. I get to read "Dear Prudence" on slate.com, which I enjoy, the New York Times crossword gets difficult enough to do (the first several days of the week, it is too easy and so a waste of time), and the weekend is within reach. If last night had cooled off, this morning would be just about perfect.

I'm about halfway through the biography of Charles Schulz; it continues to be excellent. Charlie Brown was always someone I could identify with, being the fourth of six children and not sure if anyone even knew who I was.

School went well yesterday for KidThree. She enjoyed her day (the first day, this school just does a long 'meet and greet') and talked to the principal about attending both sessions, instead of just one. That was her idea, to go to both, and I was very proud of her for talking to the principal on her own.

News from the 'hood: so far, bio-mama is still out of jail, but KidThree's younger brother is on the run from the police. I wish he were locked up--he would be safer. While he is on the run, there is always the chance that he could get hurt or killed. Blast the stupidity of teenagers, and of this teenager in particular.

Yesterday at our support group we met a new member who is very, very active. He told us about programs for the disabled to go skiing, kayaking, and bicycling, and how to find those programs. He is a T-10 incomplete and KidThree is a T-9 complete, so their levels of injury are close. It was so exciting to listen to him. The winter KidThree got hurt, we had plans to go to the snow, as KidThree had never been in the snow. We didn't make it before she was injured. I figured there had to be programs somewhere for disabled folks to enjoy the snow, but last winter we were too busy trying to survive all that life threw at us and didn't have any time or money to investigate where we could go. But this winter? We should have the money and the time, so I'll get the information now and make our plans.

We also gave a thorough report on the special gym and a program we've learned about that assists catastrophically injured folks with fundraising, and gave literature on both to the social worker who moderates the group so he can pass that information on to others.

KidThree has a disabled friend who lives right near the hospital where our support group meets. We've started picking him up after group and going to sit in a McDonald's near his home so the kids can visit. Yesterday we went instead to a Starbuck's, where I was able to sit on a comfortable couch and read my book while the kids sat off at a table to visit. It was lovely, so much nicer than McDonald's. I think that will be our regular spot from now on.

KidOne came over last night to print out some things for school but none of us was able to make the printer work. Drat. I wish I had the money to pay the computer guy so he could come out and make the printer work with both our computers and from all the users' identities.

KidOne had also brought us the last season of "The Wire" on dvd. After we got home from group and our visit, KidThree and I happily watched the first three episodes. After school today we plan to watch several more episodes. Sadly, this season has fewer episodes than the others. Shoot. I could watch "The Wire" forever. I do have one problem with the show, however: it has made it impossible for me to watch shows I used to enjoy, such as "Law & Order," as they are just too contrived and full of things that just couldn't happen in the real world. No real loss, I guess, as I can use the time to read instead.

Today while KidThree is in school I will just do housework. Clear up some things, do a little laundry, vacuum, do dishes. Mom stuff. And if I'm lucky, I'll get a nap. We stayed up a bit past my bedtime to finish that disc's episodes of "The Wire."

A